Steady Pull
by thehedge
Summary: Bellamy attempts to be more pacifistic and patient. He finds his efforts futile when faced with a particularly infuriating blonde.
Clarke sat in her corner of the coffee shop, reveling in the privacy and seclusion of her usual spot. Her anatomy textbooks spread across the stained wood tabletop, her brightly colored pens stacked in a neat pile beside her nearly empty mug of warm coffee, and her light blonde hair fanned over her pale shoulder. Her shoulders were revealed by her floral tank top and a thin strap lay lazily off her shoulder, forgotten in her focus.

Her cell phone vibrated noisily to the side of her books, angrily shaking against the hard tabletop and generating a most unpleasant noise. Her eyes did not flick to the phone. She kept her focus on the texts and diagrams before her.

Two tables over, a tall and handsome man glared at her. Her phone had been ringing intermittently and erratically all afternoon, and his patience was nearing its end.

Bellamy Blake didn't consider himself a polite man. He was an attentive man, a good brother and a loyal friend, but he was not well known for his diplomacy. He considered it a great success that he had not already gone over to the woman and crushed her noisy phone in his bare hands.

The noise abated, and Bellamy looked back to the book in his hands. He carefully unclenched his fingers, hoping to avoid crinkling the edges of the time-yellowed pages. He found his spot again easily, sinking back into the comfort of rereading one of his favorite books. His calloused fingers slid across the weathered pages with a soft shuffle, and he lost himself in the stories of ancient ti-

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

The harsh sound of crunching filling Bellamy's ears as he ground his teeth. He fought back a sarcastic jab, reminding himself of Octavia's reprimands from a conversation that took place a few days ago. He was already in poor standing with her after giving her latest, but already former, boyfriend, Atom, a less than warm reception. He needed to learn to be more tolerant, more patient, more ki-

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at his book, struggling to keep his fiery gaze off of the woman across the room. He tried to focus on the soothing atmosphere of the coffee shop instead.

The Dropship was close to Ark University's campus and habitually alight with activity, but Bellamy visited late in the evening to avoid crowds. He had originally started coming here because his roommate, Nate Miller, worked as a part-time barista during their tenure as undergraduate students. Miller would offer him free coffee in exchange for Bellamy doing his reading in the shop, providing a welcome source of amusement when business got slow. The warm and welcoming ambiance became a second home to him, and he kept the small café in his routine still, years after Miller had moved on to a more fruitful career in postgrad.

His life was often clustered and loud at the Precinct; his days filled with violently unpleasant criminals at their worst and unendingly droll administrative forms at their best. The calm of late nights at The Dropship was the best part of his week, and this rude woman was completely ruining it.

Bellamy rolled his shoulders and heard his neck crack. He took a sip from his iced coffee and turned the page with a gentle flick.

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

Bellamy clenched again.

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

Would it really be so bad if he just-

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

He found himself standing suddenly, his napkin holding his place in the book (even when angered, he would never fold the pages of a book. He was a grump, not a barbarian). He quickly passed the distance between their two tables and stopped just shy of her.

"Will you please, for the love of God, answer your fucking phone?" Bellamy towered over her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Clarke started at his sudden appearance, her eyes widening when she took in his imposing figure. She ignored the slight flutter of attraction she felt in her stomach, before meeting his angry eyes with her own exhausted ones.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you." She mumbled distractedly, turning over the phone in her palm to read the screen. The ten-digit string of an unknown number intrigued Bellamy, but only seemed to further dissuade Clarke from answering. She turned the phone back over on the table after rejecting the call.

Bellamy nodded stiffly, uncomfortable with her tepid response. He returned to his seat, feeling guilt stew in his stomach. He settled back into his chair, opened his book and stared at the page, his eyes unfocused and unseeing. Maybe Octavia was right. Maybe his confrontational instincts pushed him to be overly and unnecessarily aggressive.

He resolved to be kind to the clearly tired woman across from him, should she interact with him again. Assuaged by his decision, he shifted his attention back to his book.

"Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz."

"Fucking hell! Answer your goddamn phone or turn it off, Princess!" Bellamy snapped, his dark eyes hard. A voice, tucked away in the back of his mind, commented on the brevity of his new resolution of pleasantry, but he was overwhelmed by his instinctual annoyance.

The blonde did not respond, but gathered her things smoothly. She slid her books and pens into the white tote that hung over her shoulder. She rose from her chair gracefully, walking in the direction of the door. Coincidentally, he sat in the way.

He assumed that she was either scared of him, or passive aggressive in her exit. She didn't keep eye contact when crossing the space between them, but she passed his table on her way out.

He watched her leave, stunned by both the intensity of his anger and the suddenness of her departure. He felt a few drops of liquid on the tips of his fingers but paid them no attention.

The door shut with a quiet snap. The bell rang cheerily, cutting through the thick silence that hung around Bellamy.

He turned back to his table after a moment and went to reopen his book, but was distracted by the light spattering of coffee across his tabletop. He started when he looked at his coffee.

Sitting completely submerged and innocent between ice cubes was a small black cell phone.

* * *

Drop a review and let me know what you think! This is my first story in the Bellarke fandom, so feedback is greatly appreciated.


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